


The Water's Fine

by Kass



Series: Stargate Atlantis fanworks [46]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, UST, choc_fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-26
Updated: 2008-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was when Ronon stood up and started peeling away his weapons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Water's Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for choc_fic, the Characters of Color ficathon on livejournal, in fall 2007. My prompt was "striptease - Ronon undresses while Rodney watches." Many thanks to lamardeuse for giving this a thumbs-up!

The grasses on M49-RQ6 were chest-high and slightly sharp at the edges. John looked like he was having way too much fun with Ronon's machete, hacking them a path with great swings of his arms.

Walking single-file was kind of a pain, especially when Rodney wound up at the end of the line. For one thing, it meant Rodney was inhaling more dust than he strictly preferred. Dust that was also sticking to his face and neck and hands and everywhere he had rubbed sunscreen. Evidently these were this planet's dog days of summer, and the heat was so thick it sucked Rodney's energy away.

On the bright side, though, being in back pretty much guaranteed him a good view. None of his team-mates were exactly hard on the eyes, and Rodney had dedicated a couple of years now to the fine art of crushing on each of them, in series and parallel. Of course, any one of them could kick his ass with one hand tied behind their backs, so he kept his appreciation to himself.

Today he was walking directly behind Ronon, so Ronon was currently at the top of his list. Rodney had a finely-honed apreciation for a well-muscled ass.

Still, though, he had plenty of opportunities to ogle Ronon back in Atlantis. And they didn't involve heat, discomfort, or the complete waste of his time. "I can't believe we're doing this on foot."

"We've covered this," John called from the front of the line. Swish, went the machete.

"I just—sensitive to the memory of the departed is one thing," Rodney bitched, "respect for the dead, fine, but it's been millennia since anyone lived here!"

"All my life, I have known legends about the Ameni and the need to approach their settlements without external conveyance." Teyla brushed her hair out of her face, following John with determination.

"Look, if the spirits of the Ameni are still around we can apologize," Rodney wheedled. "I just want to see whether there's actually a ZPM in the temple at the center of the town square."

"And we'll see that," John said briskly, "as soon as our feet get us there."

"Oh, fine," Rodney muttered. They kept trudging.

At last they reached the end of the tall grass. Unfortunately, after the grass ended, there was a thin grove of trees immediately followed by a flood plain. The Ancient database hadn't said anything about an inland sea.

"This is unexpected," Teyla said.

"Topographical features do change over the course of millennia," Rodney pointed out.

"Helpful, McKay." John walked to the water's edge, squatting to splash water on his face.

They could see the ruined city on the far side of the flood plain. Really, it was more like a lake; there was hardly any current, and the waters, though not clear, didn't have that turbid floodwater swirl that made Rodney uneasy. Still, it wasn't the kind of thing they could cross.

"I can't swim that." Ronon gave the lake a dirty look.

"No one's expecting you to," John said. "There's no way we can get across this thing."

"We do have a flying machine," Rodney pointed out, with a little more rancor than was probably technically necessary. "It's about an hour's walk back _that_ way."

"Right," John said, standing, and shouldered his pack again. "Given the circumstances, I think we're going to have to approach by air. Sorry, Teyla."

"Why don't you go get the jumper, and pick us back up?" Rodney didn't actually expect John to accept the proposal, but he made it anyway.

"Fine," John said, to his surprise, and glanced at Teyla. "You want to come with?"

"I am happy to accompany you."

"Right. Yes. You enjoy that walk. We'll stay here," Rodney said, plunking himself down on the grass beneath an ineffectual tree that didn't cast enough shade. Still, it was better than nothing, and his feet were grateful to be holding still for a change.

"Trail's already blazed, won't take that long. Let's go," John said, and he and Teyla headed back for the grass.

Ronon shrugged and sat down too, weapon drawn but not at the ready. They hadn't seen any signs of danger on the hike out, and the lifesigns detector hadn't shown anything, but Rodney supposed it never hurt to be prepared.

The next several minutes ticked slowly by as Rodney alternately mopped his face ineffectually with his bandanna and surreptitiously looked at Ronon out of the corner of his eye. He wondered whether Ronon thought it was weird that they'd been colleagues for this long and neither one of them apparently had anything to say to the other. Though come to think of it, Ronon didn't seem to be big on small talk.

Well, that was a thing they had in common. Though Rodney also didn't much care for silence, if he didn't have a book or a laptop in his hands. If he were stuck here with Sheppard, he'd be needling him about something—his taste in movies was always a good start—but when it came to Ronon, he didn't even know what to mock.

"I really hate the heat." Rodney checked his watch again.

"You said that."

"It's still true."

Ronon just looked at him.

"This is a ridiculous waste of a morning," Rodney said glumly. "We could have flown the jumper straight to the ruins, been there within fifteen minutes, gotten the ZPM—if there even _is_ a ZPM!—and been back in Atlantis before lunchtime."

"But we didn't."

"Instead we've wasted our morning walking in this abominable heat, and where did it get us? Staring at the ruins of the city from across a lake. Which is just terrific, really—"

That was when Ronon stood up and started peeling away his weapons. The sight startled Rodney into losing his train of thought.

"What are you doing?"

Ronon jerked his head toward the lake. "I'm going swimming."

"In that?" Rodney felt his voice rising. "We have no idea whether that water's even safe!"

"Sheppard drank some. Guess it's all right."

"Oh. He did?" Rodney hadn't noticed that. "I hope he tested it first; there's no telling what kind of bacteria —"

"He used a filter." Ronon's voice was amused. Or at least, Rodney thought it was; it was also muffled by the shirt he was tugging over his head.

"And what if there's something dangerous down there? Snakes, or—or piranhas," he offered, triumphant at having thought of something genuinely worrisome.

"Don't know what those are," Ronon pointed out, "and I don't care. It's hot."

"Yes, I noticed that." And given that Ronon was bare-chested, right there in front of him, and starting to unfasten his trousers? It was getting a whole lot hotter. Not that Rodney had any intention of saying so.

Ronon left the top button of his trousers undone, pausing to take off his jewelry. One necklace, then another, then a bracelet. He stretched—was he moving more sinuously than usual? If Rodney hadn't already been sitting down, he might have fainted from all the blood in his system rushing south.

He did swallow hard when Ronon pushed down his pants and crouched to fold his clothes neatly at the base of a tree, placing his gun on top of them wth a kind of reverence. The muscles in his back—the curve of his ass—yes, Ronon was every bit as attractive naked as Rodney had always known he woud be. And apparently body-consciousness was not part of the standard Satedan lexicon. Or maybe men who were that good-looking didn't bother to develop modesty?

Rodney pressed a surreptitious hand at the base of his dick, warning it to stay the hell down. It was a losing battle.

Ronon rose. Somehow being naked made him look even taller than usual. "You coming?"

"Me?" Rodney was aware the response was ridiculous. Teyla and John were on their way back to the jumper, and there wasn't anyone else around.

Like he was really going to strip off all of his clothes _now_. Visions of high school locker rooms danced in his head: the petty humiliation of inappropriate adolescent erections, fear of discovery and of reprisal. He shook his head slightly, as though to clear it. He was some decades, and several galaxies, away from those memories. In the real world, Ronon Dex was looming over him, naked, waiting.

"I don't think that's the best idea," Rodney hedged. "Someone should stay here and keep an eye on your weapon." Oh, God, that could not have come out more wrong. "I mean, keep guard! I can keep guard." He was babbling.

Ronon shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, and turned away.

Rodney barely had the chance to register the absence of the scars that had been on Ronon's shoulderblades before Ronon ran straight for the water and splashed his way in to where it became deep.

"How is it," Rodney called, when he surfaced.

"Mmmmm," Ronon said, and a grin flashed across his face before he sumberged again.

Rodney tried hard to think about very unsexy things, but his brain was full of Ronon's happy sigh. Happy, low, slightly growly sigh. Probably not unlike his sex noises. Not that Rodney made a habit of thinking about his team-mates' sex noises. At least, not while they were offworld, not while they were working—in the privacy of his own quarters, that was one thing, but this was...more than a little problematic. Rodney's erection throbbed.

"Water's nice and cool," Ronon said, treading water. "You oughtta try it."

"I can swim back home," Rodney countered.

"Yeah, but you don't." Well, that was true enough. "Besides, this is fresh water—it's not like the ocean."

Fresh water did feel different, Rodney remembered, wistfully. "How nice for you," he said, hoping he had managed to sound cranky in his usual way and not like he desperately wanted to be in the water, rubbing himself off on Ronon's muscled thigh.

The water swirled as Ronon stroked cleanly through it, and then he reached a place where the bank was sloped gently enough that he could walk out of the lake. Which he did, emerging like Neptune from the sea. Rodney kicked himself for the simile as soon as it occurred to him, but he couldn't seem to stop thinking it. Or to stop staring. He dragged his eyes up to Ronon's face, but the slightly feral smile he found there made him want to roll over and expose his belly.

No one he'd ever slept with had brought out this instinctive beta behavior. He was pretty sure his former partners would all have classified him as impossibly bossy, an alpha in the most exasperating ways, but Ronon evoked entirely other desires. Not that he was sleeping with Ronon, of course. Or was likely to. Oh, man, he was so screwed.

"Your turn," Ronon said, walking right past him and picking up his gun. "I'll keep guard."

Apparently Rodney had a newfound kink for beautful large men holding weaponry. He bit back a whimper.

But there was no graceful way out. Not after all that bitching and moaning about how much he hated the heat. "Aren't you going to get dressed?" Rodney unzipped his tac vest slowly, stalling.

"Gotta dry off first," Ronon said. Laughter glinted in his eyes. Damn it, he had to know exactly what this was doing to Rodney.

He didn't seem upset about it, though. Hell, Rodney thought. He really didn't want to be in this condition when John and Teyla got back. Maybe a swim would actually help. If the water were cold enough, it might...relieve matters.

"Right," Rodney said, and stood, and turned away from Ronon, and managed to get his clothing off without embarrassing himself, and walked a little stiffly to the water's edge. He found the place where the bank sloped down, and walked in, biting back a sigh as the water rose above his waist.

"Go ahead, get all wet," Ronon called.

"Thanks for the tip," Rodney said, though on second thought Ronon did have a point, so he took a deep breath and submerged. He came up pretty quick—there wasn't much current, but it still made him vaguely anxious—but yeah, okay, the water did feel great.

You know what else would feel great, his traitorous body whispered, and supplied him with a detailed mental image.

And although his brain was screaming "crazy! this is crazy!" he found himself swimming to a place where he could just barely stand. He moved one arm near the surface, as though he were treading water, and he let the other reach down. When his fingers closed around his cock he almost moaned.

He turned so he was facing the broad expanse of water and the distant city, and imagined that Ronon was standing behind him, holding him up, jerking him off. Oh, God. If this were Ronon's grip, Ronon's hand... It would be bigger than his, and maybe he'd be a little rough. Or, no, surprisingly gentle, that was it, all that strength contained. Rodney's hips jerked forward.

He worked himself for about four seconds before Ronon's voice cut into his reverie. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

He meant the water—he had to mean the water—but Rodney's erection surged into his hand and he came hard, gasping.

"Yeah," he managed, sounding a little strangled, "water's fine."

"Jumper oughtta be here soon," Ronon said, and when Rodney turned he saw that Ronon was half-dressed, putting his necklaces back on, the striptease in reverse.

"Right," Rodney said. "I'd better get out."

"Unless you think we can talk Sheppard and Teyla into swimming," Ronon said.

Rodney stowed that image away for later fantasy use, grateful that there was no way he could get hard again so soon. "Maybe back on Atlantis," he said. "We've got a ZPM to find."

"If you say so," Ronon agreed, watching him exit the water. Rodney took a deep breath, stood up straight, and didn't turn away.


End file.
